Morris Island Anthology
by inopinion
Summary: Short scenes and head canons about what may have happened just beyond the series. Mostly Tory and Ben.
1. Date at the Docks

**The Virals Series needs more fanfiction, so I'm here to help.**

Thanks to a tuna fish sandwich, I did not have to face down an entire evening of wedding planning. Kit had a simplistic desire to be married in a place of natural beauty, and so he proposed we drive out to Cape Romaine Wildlife Refuge. Whitney, of course, wanted something more traditional with a modern flair and thought Boone Hall Plantation and Gardens would be exactly the southern charm she needed. She'd made an appointment with their event planner, had planned a picnic, and packed the bug spray. Diner was to be al fresco at the end of a self-guided walk of the refuge. I was still in mildly hot water over my attendance record being mailed to his office rather than where I could intercept it. My grades hadn't dipped more than a couple percent and so he was holding me hostage on principle. Plus he thought wedding planning as a family would be the exact start we needed in this new life of togetherness. Blargh.

But, like I said, thanks to a tuna fish sandwich and Hiram's impossibly sensitive stomach, Mr. Blue had to wait at the dock for an additional twenty minutes. It was exactly the time I needed, as the text came just when Hiram staggered to the docks.

 _Can't miss the appointment at the plantation. Feed yourself. No going out._

I texted back: _Hiram should be here any minute, maybe five more?_

He replied: _Can't. Late as it is._

Kit accepted most of my excuses on face value, it was one of the better aspects of our relationship, but showing some interest in the activities of Whitney's designs got me bonus points, so the small white lie really hurt no one.

"Never again," Hi groaned. We hadn't even cleared the dock before he was over the edge.

Shelton and I shadowed the two middle-school kids that also lived on Morris to the front of the boat.

"So, what's the plans for the weekend? Bank heist?" Shelton adjusted his glasses and kept one eye on Hiram's folded form.

"Calculus. I haven't started the assignment yet."

"Oh, tisk tisk. It's a killer. Took me all night last night to get through half. I'm gonna be hitting up the Call of Duty tonight though, little treat for keeping my nose clean for two weeks."

"Have fun."

"Yeah. But we're going out tomorrow, right?" Shelton alluded to the pre-planned boating expedition to our favorite beach on loggerhead.

Even without my abilities, I felt like I needed to see Whisper and her pack. Like watching them would help me remember that connection. There was a good chance I'd come away upset or crying, but still, I needed to see them.  
"I assume so. I haven't heard otherwise," I shrugged.

Shelton raised an eyebrow. Ben was our ride, always, but he'd only managed to slip a few texts to Shelton on a friend's phone in the last two weeks. His resilience through the class skipping wasn't quite as high as mine and an emergency conference with his parents rendered him without a phone, without a car, and without a social life. It's been a bit of a hard start for our relationship, as in a non-starter. It still stung a bit that every message seemed to go to Shelton, all three of them. I shouldn't mope about it, but still, I was feeling more than uncertain about what exactly I should be expecting now that we'd assigned the labels of boyfriend and girlfriend to each other.

Another volley of overly loud vomit kept me in the here and now. I'd be at the docks in the morning, waiting to see what had changed from our last group ride out to Loggerhead. At least if it got weird, I'd have Coop and the wolf pack to keep me distracted.

Unfortunately, Friday nights had little in the way of televised entertainment. So while I attempted to procrastinate and put off the complexities of nested integrals, I made plenty of headway, enough to question if I had the right assignment. I even sent a confiramtion text to Shelton and got a positive response. But by seven o'clock, all my problems were done and what remained of my weekend assignments was seventy pages of reading for AP English. I turned my attention to The Age of Innocence and let the TV play in the background.

An hour, eight o'clock and I could imagine Kit and Whitney taking in the beauty of the refuge and I sort of wished I was there. Sort of, not really, okay I would love to see the refuge and I wouldn't mind a little more time with Kit. Besides, the wedding was important to him and he was undeniably important to me. As my stomach growled, I could even admit I wished I had a little bit of Whitney's picnic basket.

Lazily, I palmed my phone up off the table and gasped. It was still on silent from school which had meant I'd missed a message from Ben.

 _At my dad's tonight, you around?_

What did that mean? More importantly, in two weeks of radio silence, did I even want to come clamoring to his sudden beck and call? Shouldn't I at least feign being angry? A glance at the time stamp - 7:12 - and at least I wouldn't look desperate replying.

I wrote: _Just finished some homework. What's up?_

What's up? Yeah, that's how you hook 'em. I waited. Two minutes. Three. I turned on the notifications so I'd at least hear it and went to address my hunger in the kitchen. I made a sandwich, tossed a couple slices of meat to Coop and eyed the baking show on the TV with little interest. Still, no reply. What a start, maybe an ending. It hurt, not that I'd dare let it show, because what was there to hurt over?

Three fast raps on the door and butterflies swarmed my stomach and floated up into my throat. Was he skipping the electronic communications?  
Ben had cut off shorts and a trim, black t-shirt that looked slightly too small for his frame. It might have fit him in the spring or at Christmas, but he'd grown both taller and stronger in the time I'd known him. His hair was tucked back behind his ears and a slight pink coated his cheeks. Those long lashes saved him sweeping away those prickly thoughts I'd just been fostering.

"So, you wanna come out with me?" He fought the smile that threatened to crack his face.

"Yeah, sure. Where?"

"Just the dock," he shrugged, then added, "Is that okay?"

Ben looked legitimately worried, like I wasn't known to hang out on docks with moody boys and would be offend to partake. Coop rushed the door.

"Lead the way."

His hand slipped out of his pocket and extended for mine. Would I ever get used to it? His elbow bent and pulled me into his side, which seemed like an expert move, had he used it on other girls? How many other girls? Why was I having dumb, over analyzing thoughts in the first place. I turned by attention to the feel of him: warm and solid; the smell of him: men's sport deodorant and docks; and his body language: stiff, but not anxious. I took a deep breath of the salt air and shrugged my shoulders a few times to relax. It was Ben, just Ben. Just Ben-the-boyfriend doing the first boyfriend things… no sweat.

On the dock, he had one pole already cast into the water, another, presumably for me, sitting on the dock. Three buckets and a cooler. An already opened bottle of fancy root-beer was next to one bucket (his seat).

"So, what I miss? Felonies? Misdemeanors?" he asked, dropping my hand to take his seat and open the cooler.

He pulled out another bottle and dug his keys out of his pocket, digging deeper for his pocket knife. He used the bottle opener even though it was probably a twist off. But, sure, cool points, I guess.

"I've been on psuedo-house arrest, so not much. Wedding crap, homework, mostly. All-in-all, quiet. You?"

"Well, grounded. Redefining nothing."

"How bad were the grades?"

"Three B's. Nothing major. I've done worse at Bolton, but apparently the standards are different now that I'm at Wando."

Ben lifted the second pole and offered it to me. I examine it and confirm it's the same one from the last time we went fishing. The lure is the same shiny disk and feather combination. I lean over and look at his bucket. Nothing in it but water.

"We can toss them back. But I was hoping for dinner," he smirks. "You remember how to cast?"

"Yeah, I think so." Setting the feed, holding it with my finger I pulled the pole back and launched the line out beyond the dock into the deeper water. Ben's lips were tight and his smirk never slipped. "What?"

"Nothing. You fish how ever you wanna."

"What I do?" I insisted.

"Nothing. Just… I mean, fish like cover. Under the dock, by the boats, but you try the open water," he waved his hand at his own line that dipped below his father's ferry boat.

"Fine, I'll reset it," I started reeling it in. "Call it practice."

"Sure, practice," he sipped his soda and then got quiet. "Not the best first date, eh?"

I watched the lure under the gentle waves then pop through the surface. Was this a date? A first date? Did this count? It was after school, almost dark, no parents, no friends, he even brought refreshments. His hand curled into a fist on his knee, those Blue-moods coming to the surface. "It's a very Ben first date." I offered, kindly and with a smile. For good measure I pulled the pole back and released it, landing off the end of the dock.

"What's a Tory-date? You know, for next time?"

"You have to ask?" I raise an eyebrow and glance at Sewee parked in it's slip down the dock.

"Always wolves with you."

"Use my predictability to your advantage," a small nudge from my knee and he slid his bucket closer to me.

"How's this supposed to go?" Ben asked, looking at the water, watching his line. We're shoulder to shoulder like we have been on countless occasions, but I can't recall ever having quite the same queasy feeling.

"I dunno. New to me."

"I sorta didn't think much past this."

"Well, this is nice," I declared, sipping from the soda in my hand. I see his on his knee, palm up, offering. His fingers are slightly chilled from the glass.

"So, why'd you text Shelton?"

His hand flinches in mine. "Only number I have memorized. Two-zero-zero-seven. Double-oh-seven. I had to borrow a phone from a friend. Only let me the once because he almost got it confiscated."

"Oh. Okay." More silence, the lapping waves, the bugs coming out for the night. Coop dashed through the grass and onto the dock, sticking his head into the space between Ben and I.

"Chaperons," Ben groaned, pushing Coop away and getting licked for his effort.

"Oh, yeah, did you get rules?" I asked.

"Rules? About?"

"Me."

"Oh, no, not specifically about you, just about girlfriends, but I don't even know if my mom remembers it."

"You've dated before?"

"Like middle-school, before Bolton. You?"

"Nope, not really, well, about the same, I guess," I blushed at the memory of those make-out sessions behind Dunkin Donuts.

"So, rules?"

"Oh, Kit made sure we had the talk and everything. Apparently, seventeen-year-old boys are single minded. I think my existence sort of freaked him out."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Kit was seventeen when—you know—I happened."

"Oh. Right. Well, I mean, that's not gonna happen like right away or anything." Instant awkwardness. I created instant awkwardness.

"Look, it better to be upfront about things, right? Talk about them? Anyways, Kit says we can't hang out alone at each other's houses, curfew—strictly enforced—and he wants to know if we go places where we're going and when we'll be back."

"Okay. Sure," Ben nodded. "But this is okay, right?"

"Yep."

Then Ben's arm moved around my shoulder, a smooth movement that tickled my stomach back into butterflies. "And this is okay?"

"Mmm-hmm." My breathing stepped up and the sweat kicked on.  
His face next to mine, his arm pulling on my knees, rotating me on the bucket so we faced each other, his right knee between mine. "This is okay?"

Dear God, Ben had moves. Good moves. Moves that melted me and made my skin pimple into goose bumps. I nodded. Leaning forward our lips touched just slightly, enough for his breath to puff onto my chin. Then the line jerked and his pole fell off it's prop. Stretching low and fast like a cat, Ben gripped the pole before it fell off the deck. I laughed at his sprawl, his bucket rolling into the ocean and riding on the waves four feet below. He cursed and reeled, keeping the fish on the line and eying the bucket for drift. I reeled in my own pole and while he fought his fish into the dock, I used mine to hook the handle on the bucket and drag it over to the ladder.

"It can't be that small," Ben groaned, the silver fish coming up in a leap. "It fought like a monster."

"Making fish stories?" Kit approached. Coop trotted up the dock to great him.

"Hey, Tory, it's nine-thirty. You got until ten."

"Yep, sure thing," I chirped wondering exactly how much he'd seen. Thankfully, it was getting darker by the moment and maybe my flush would fade before Ben had the fish unhooked and back in the water. Kit lingered, like he wanted to burn my scarlet permanently into my skin.

Coop circled around me, watching Ben's fish come up over the edge of the dock. It flipped and kicked it's tail wildly, still fighting in the air. Ben grabbed it and balanced his pole against his side. He grinned while he examined his catch.

"What is it?" I asked more to pull me away from Kit who just wouldn't disappear.

"Croaker," he held it up, holding it by it's mouth.

"Cute."

"People usually say, 'a beauty' but I don't think 'cute' is really a term for fish."

"Maybe I wasn't talking about the fish," I grinned. Ben rolled his eyes and tucked his hair behind his ear. Definitely cute. "Well, mercy or no?"

Ben glanced at the bucket and then back to the fish. "It's not my favorite," he lied and tossed it back into the oceans.

He wiped his hands on his pants, glanced at the path up to the condos and found it vacant. "Before anything else gets in the way—" he took the two steps he needed and crushed his lips into mine. His lips were tight with an exhilarated smile and his hands firm in how they held me still. Maybe it would be an awkward transition, but having that first real kiss out of the way was a big start.

Comments are life, comments are love, comments keep me writing. :)


	2. Flat Tire

**Tumblr prompt: Hair stroking...**

.

Ben bent his knees and gripped the tire iron then lifted on the folcrum. He strained against the lug nut using all the power of his legs to push. Tory watched him in the mirror, feeling the push of his weight against the Explorer rocking it up and down. She felt the shift of the vehicle and watched him fly backwards into the ditch. She was out of the car and heading towards him, the rain soaking her in an instant.

His angry, guttural scream gave her pause. She observed from the shoulder. Sitting waste deep in the drainage ditch, he examined the tire iron still clutched in his hand. He pushed himself up and threw it out into the trees. The head of the lever was still perched on the unmoving lug nut.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"No. Yes. No," he was breathing hard and still looking along the trajectory of his broken tool. "Get back in the car."

Tory glanced down at her already soaked clothes and then at him fighting the loose gravel of the ditch and opted to offer him a hand instead. He took it, although not when it was first offered, but after a few more slipping steps. When she had him on the shoulder, he didn't look at her.

Setting back to his task, he lowered the jack and packed it away into the back. Under the back hatch lid, he stood with his hands on his hips, still fuming, still avoiding her eye. Still prideful and angry and with every intention of receding into himself. A month ago, she would have slunk back to the font seat and let him cool off on his own schedule. She would have called her dad and gotten his Triple A number and made the arrangements. A month ago, she was Ben's friend Tory. Now, she could sense she had a slight opportunity to mend Ben's foul mood.

She stepped under the overhang and Ben fell back, leaning just under the drips that came through where the hatch met the roof. He pursed his lips and crossed his arms. She stepped so her feet were between his, her thighs touching just a moment before her arms circled around him. One breath, then another, and the warmth of his angry body steamed into hers. Then a third breath and his arms looped around her back and his cheek found a comfortable spot on top of her head.

Tory pulled away and hopped up into the car, pulling his arm so he faced her. A small smile attempted to overtake his lips, but failed. His hair clung to his face, wrapping under his chin and sticking to his neck. Tory wanted to push it behind his ear. She'd wanted to touch his hair and his face and to clear the clouds so many times before even if she denied it to her self for most of a year. The shift in their relationship emboldened her instincts. She lifted her right hand to his left temple and racked fingernails against his scalp. His think, straight strands tried to stay suctioned to his skin, a few passes were necessary to set them right. But she couldn't stop. One grazing fingernail along the roots behind his ear and his eyes fluttered closed, his lips parted just slightly, and he leaned into her for a delicate kiss forgetting the rain and the mud and mostly just ignoring the still flat tire.

Please read and review. :)


	3. Event Plannning

**Continuation on Ben and Tory's relationship, a couple years down the road. Enjoy. (This is gonna be technically M, but if you're not ok with that, just skip it).**

I have been plotting this occasion for at least three months. I made an appointment, got pills, got condoms. I read an encyclopedia sized share of Reddit forums and even watched some porn. No one in the history of the world was more prepared for their first sexual experience than I was. But, it seems, no other teenager had the same bad luck. I needed one night where Kit and Whitney were away, or a solid alibi to stay in Ben's dorm room unnoticed. The later would require a reason to have my car but not come home. Of course, I also needed Ben's availability–hard in his second semester of College. So I knew it might take a bit for all the stars to align. I prepared the best I could and then waited for opportunity.

Kit had a conference, last minute. Call the boy, set up a date, review my notes. Whitney decided not to go because of the weather. We watched a documentary for his humanities class on the couch while eating Whitney's salt-water-taffy. Not a horrible consolation.

Second attempt: I arranged for Ella to cover on a Friday night knowing the Magnolia League could use my truck in the morning. The timing would be tight, but doable. And then my alternator stranded me at the gas station next to Ella's neighborhood and thankfully not in the middle of the two hour drive to Conway.

Kit and Whitney were off to a bed and breakfast for a weekend getaway. Ben, none the wiser, canceled so he could see a band with his roommates.

Everything lined up, finally. And I started my period. At least on that occasion, Ben still didn't know and there weren't any dashed expectations.

Finally, another shot arrived. Kit at a conference, Whitney with him, stranded by a storm flights canceled, trip extended. Ben reluctantly considered my offer to stay over. His dad being a few doors down didn't exactly make him easy to sneak in and out. Everyone knew his explorer, loose lips could sink the ship, so to speak. One mention by anyone in the complex - all of whom worked for my dad - and I'd be sitting at the kitchen table discussing broken rules.

"Just come over. We can play some games with me and the guys," I begged him on the phone.

"Yeah, okay. That sounds fun. Things are dead up here anyways. I'll let my dad know."

"No! Surprise him." I almost shout into the phone. He doesn't even need to see my face to know I have motives beyond game night.

"Tory, it's against the rules."

"The rules are dumb."

"But, they're the rules. And when we break the rules, I don't get to see you. And I really, really like seeing you."

"Remember when we stole historic artifacts from a museum?"

He sighed, heavy and near resignation. All he needed was a little logic to push him over the edge.

"Kit and Whitney are stuck in San Francisco. They're re-booked on a flight at nine AM, which is noon here. They won't be home before six."

A long pause audible breathing followed, then short and sweet, "Fine. But if we get caught…"

"I'll do your O-Chem homework. See you in a bit?"

"I'll come in by sea." He purred on the line.

One downside to being Ben was that he was stuck dating a girl two years younger. I didn't believe Kit when we first talked about it, but he was right. At fifteen, I wasn't ready for the physical side of a relationship. And at seventeen, Ben was. I guess, to be fair, Ben never called it a downside or complained or pressured. Occasionally, he'd get caught up in the moment and find a boundary I didn't know I had. But never once did saying stop or no become an issue. I guess it helps that I knew from the start that he loved me, he'd told me but I'd also felt it when we shared our pack connection. On the physical side, I called the shots and Ben seemed happy for the shared experiences. I'm finishing up my senior year now, and he's at college, a freshman. It may have taken almost two years for us to get to third base, but when we got there it really bashed all the barriers. I had a one track mind ever since.

"So, is it Ticket to Ride or Pandemic?" Ben shook each box in time with its name.

"Ticket to Ride, every span of track you take of clothing."

Ben blushed and nodded. "Better wear layers or Hi's getting a free show." He set up the board. I gathered my nerve and had settled on playing at least one round. Don't judge, board games can be sexy… To us.

"Oh, they're not coming," I admitted, as casual as possible.

Ben straightened and looked at me, glanced at the door, listened to the empty house, looked at his bag of overnight things by the stairs, and then squared up to me. "What's on your mind, Tory?"

"Well, if I've convinced you to stay… then I wanted you to myself for once." I pulled his hand and pushed it to my back, his other matched it and he held me. I drew long kisses out of his lips and slid my hands down to the hem of his shirt and up against his stomach. Solid muscles and a little bit of hair on his lower stomach. More kissing, more of my hands exploring, his hands still as statues on my lower back his shoulders stiff. "Relax."

Maybe a change in venue would help. I stepped away from the kitchen and to the stairs. I grabbed his bag and pushed it into his arms, walking ahead of him up to the third floor. He looked around my room for the first time in years. One of Kit's rules had eliminated boys from my bedroom. Ben took it in. I hoped he didn't linger on the stack of wolf stuffed animals on the chair. Maybe that was too childish, but I didn't really think he'd be so hesitant.

Returning to the threshold, I pulled him in and shut the door between us and Coop, no dogs allowed, not for this. He set his bag on my desk chair and looked stricken. His eyes examined me, looked for cracks and clues. I sat on the bed and pulled him towards me. He followed, still mechanical. I kicked off my shoes and told him to do the same. He complied. Then I tried to peel up his shirt.

"Time out, Tory. Seriously, where are we going with this?"

I couldn't say it brashly like I knew he would, he never wasted much on tact. So I decided to go the obvious route. I reached over to my desk and pulled out a condom and held it in my hands between us. We locked eyes. His face asked me what I wanted. I nodded. He nodded back. We didn't always need words, we knew each other so well. I tossed the pouch on the center of the bed and lifted my shirt up over my head. Bikinis show more than my bra, but he still looked at me like he'd never seen me so naked. Like a gentleman, his eyes shot up to my face and his cheeks reddened and bled down into his chest. I touched his shirt again, pulling it up, he flicked it over his head. I swept hair back from his face and behind his ear, pulling his face to mine. His heart was hammering in his chest, his skin was five degrees hotter than usual. And, his hesitation was gone.

Ben touched me with his full hands and his fingertips. His lips hunted for my ear and the ticklish points on my neck. His body pressed mine like he was proving I would say stop. I met him at every turn. Naked and panting, he dry humped my thigh and I reached between us and touched him until he whimpered. He came to a rest, beaten at his own game. We still hadn't said a single thing. I pulled the condom out from under my shoulder where it had been crinkling for a half hour. I passed it to him.

Ben, sitting up between my legs was a sight. Cute. Muscled. Pretty eyes that looked so soft and somewhat worried.

"It's okay. I want to," I assured him, rubbing my calf up his leg to his side.

"There's no going back."

"Then let's go forward. Chop, chop," I motioned for him to hurry, smiling. He laughed. He relaxed. He applied the condom and started to lower himself back. "No, not yet. Can you touch me and then when I say I'm ready, then. Okay? Foreplay is key."

"Research?" He asked, hand sliding down my leg to my vulva.

He repeated his earlier touches carefully and without breaking eye contact. I didn't have quite the same resolve. What was my face supposed to look like? TV orgasms had wide open mouths and some tongue flicking around lips or pinched eyes or gaping-O-moans, and screaming. Under his scrutiny, I just hoped it wasn't an ugly face like Claire Danes crying or anything. He looked less than confident in what he was doing so I tried the lip biting and licking thing to give him some indication that I appreciate the effort. And man, I was appreciating it. Once before, several weeks back, in the back seat of his Explorer, he'd been touching me much like he was – but in a much more cumbersome position. This feeling came over me all a sudden. I needed more. I needed something bigger and stronger and different than just one finger and a fast circling thumb. I was waiting for that feeling, that surely was when it was supposed to happen, when my body asked for it. As soon as that thought came through my mind I could feel the tingling start under his fingertips and swimming deeper into my flesh.

"Ben?"

"Yeah?"

"Now, I want you now." I pulled on his arm, he followed it, fast and blinking like he didn't realize we'd get here that this would actually happen and then it was.

Slowly and with a soft, surprised moan, Ben was pushing past the throbbing need and fulfilling it. My hand replaced his thumb, circling my clitoris like a Cosmo sex tip and what followed was an intense and encompassing orgasm. No time to contemplate my O-face. What ever it was would be scalded into Ben's brain, because he was looking at me like a girl possessed. I held his hips still and I worked mine up against him to the pulse of what my body wanted and I took it from him. No machismo needed in my first experience, I was more than happy to have it covered. The tingling radiated out and pulsed in smaller and smaller bursts and I came to a still, panting, mess under him.

"For real?" he laughed, and despite all my effort and preparation, he sure seemed proud of himself.

I nodded and released my grip on his hip. He took this as a sign that he could continue and that's when I discovered exactly how shallow our coupling had been. More or less, there was an uncomfortable point in my canal, obviously the tenuous tissues of my hymen in the way of Ben's perfectly ready erection. From the forums, I figured out that he could probably feel it as much as I could. But there wasn't so much as a pause on his part before the subtle burn of him fully encased inside me. He pulled back and the ache seared like a new burn.

"Slow!" I grabbed his shoulders. This was his part and even if it stung and chased the orgasm from my immediate mind, I couldn't deny him his own release.

A slow kiss and still hips. Then a stroke that moved millimeters and arms gathering me into him, holding me around my shoulders and cupping the back of my neck. One slow stroke, another, a groan that made my chest ripple in affection. Kisses and a tight hug of protective Ben, always here for me and entranced in the act of making love to me. And it felt good. Not building to an orgasm good, but a solid hug and comfort good. Like a lucid dream in the morning where you can fly and eat all the dessert you want, that sort of good. It felt like the nervous system equivalent of the love I'd always shared with him. In short, it was safety, warmth, and perfect.

Leave a comment if you like it.


	4. I Can't Sleep

Prompt: I can't sleep + Tory and Ben? (Bluenan?)

Oh… Hell yes… I'm here for this. Victoria Brennan, Ben Blue and the magical mystery of the high school to college transition…

* * *

Hiram's phone buzzed in the front breast pocket of his sports coat.

7:45 - BEN: What's the story?

7:45 - HI: Still waiting on a refill at the seafood station

7:46 - BEN: What's Tory doing?

7:46 - HI: Strangling a priest in the bathroom. What do you think? Dancing.

7:46 - BEN: With WHO?

7:46 - HI: Dunno, haven't seen her in a bit.

7:47 - BEN: YOUR THE FUCKING DATE WHY ARE YOU NOT DANCING?

7:47 - HI: one word: bacon.

7:47 - HI: scratch that, two words: BACON SCALLOPS

7:45 - BEN: WHO IS MY GIRLFRIEND DANCING WITH?

Hiram shivered uncomfortably. On one hand, entertaining Ben at all was a bit underhanded in his friendship with Tory. On the other hand, Ben was basically his brother and he'd known him longer. On the rarely-considered stomach, they just refilled the seafood tray. Ben could cool his heels for a minutes or two.

7:48 - BEN: WHO?

7:50 - BEN: Hi, who is she dancing with?

7:55 - BEN: Is it Chance? JASON?

7:56 - BEN: HI

7:56 - BEN: Stop ignoring me, who?

7:59 - BEN: HIRAM! I WILL TELL YOUR MOM ABOUT THE BACON!

8:05 - HI: Jesus Christ, take a Xanex. She's dancing with her dad. Where's the faith?

Hiram applied a little shame, feeling only slightly bad. Tory and Ben had a recent fight about her being on an accidental double date with Ella, Ella's new squeeze Phil and Phil's cousin. Apparently, Phil's cousin was in the dark as to Tory's status up until he put his lips on hers and the smack that followed. Despite the smack, Ben was not happy she'd basically given "date-vibes" for three hours. To say Ben was shaken, especially being stuck up in his dorm room two hours away, was an understatement. The fact that Hiram and Shelton knew at all was testament to the depth of that earthquake. Ben had confided, probably drunkenly, in a group chat and begged them to not hold back if they thought she was over him.

Hiram glanced at the dance floor on his way to investigate the little cakes now appearing on the far table. Chance Claiborne reached out–Hiram saw it in move-style slow-motion–Chance pushed a stray curl behind Tory's ear. She pursed her lips. Hiram waited for the smack. She said something. Chance stayed in one piece. They moved on…. no smack. But also no dance, no returned gesture, no change in body language.

They had little graham cracker crusted raspberry tarts. Hiram hoped there would be fifty more dances before Ben got home for the summer.

* * *

Tory collapsed onto her bed in the silk dress unconcerned about wrinkles for the first time that night. She pulled her phone off of her desk and flipped to her text messages.

7:46 - Ben: Hope you're having fun. Miss you.

8:45 - Ben: Hey, if you get home early, call me.

9:24 - Ben: Need help on this Bio question…

10: 23 - Ben: don't care how late, call me

She looked at her clock, decided a few minutes to her self wasn't going to end the world and rescued her face from the layers of make-up she hung her dress and pulled on soft pajamas. She dialed.

"Tory?" Ben sounded tired, his speech slow like he'd woken up to take her call.

"Sorry, is it too late?"

"No, no. I'm glad you called. I can't sleep."

"Sound like you've been sleeping." He cleared his throat. "No, don't do that, you sound so sexy when you just wake up."

"Well, I'm not just waking up. I've been up, waiting."

"Waiting for me? I told you I could be out late. You should go to bed."

"I just wanted to check in. Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, it was alright. Not great, but it is what it is."

"Any accidental dates?" Ben's words were distinctly slurred.

Tory sat up, cocked her head to the side, and narrowed her eyes like she could exact her glare through the airwaves that connected them and stop his heart. "Excuse me?"

"I dunno, just wondering."

"I'm not gonna stroke your bruised ego over a non-issue. It happened, I told you, it wasn't my fault, now move on."

"Move on? Is that what you want? To move on?"

"You've been drinking again, haven't you?" She accused, even more certain from his speech.

"Better than going out and dancing with Charleston's most eligible bachelors."

"Good night, Ben. Do me a favor, don't call me tomorrow. Take a day and sort your shit out." She hung up. She silenced her phone.

"Great, now I can't sleep!" She huffed, exasperated, and set her course for the left over peach cobbler in the fridge.


	5. Just Pretend

Prompt: "Just pretend to be my date."

.

* * *

I guess I never really noticed exactly how rare people that looked like Ben were in Charleston. Copper skin, long black hair, eyes that touched every shade of brown you needed for painting shadows in Renaissance master pieces… you know, google "Native American man" and flick through the images–especially as Ben's hair keeps on growing. I mean, I met him my third day on Morris and he's always just been Ben. And on Morris, we have a distinct advantage of diversity, but in Charleston, in Mount Pleasant, he must stand out, and I know I subconsciously rely on it to pick him from a crowd. Look for the brown kid with long hair and a black shirt… easy.

I stand in the half-full parking lot at Congaree National Park staring like the tourist I am. The entire campsite is teeming with Ben-looking people-not in that gross racist way, but in that oh-my-god they could all be brothers and sisters way–which makes sense, sorta. They have campers and tents, boom-boxes, and camping chairs. They have a big banner that declares the Blue-Tucker Family Reunion, so there's no mistake, this is exactly where I'm supposed to be. But I cannot pick him out of this crowd and I feel lost.

My phone has no service. My dad has already started the car and is backing out of the spot. I am pouring sweat, not like the usual sweat, but the "I can't find my boyfriend and now I'm stuck in the wilderness" sort of sweat.

"You lost?" A woman as big around as she is tall asks. She's got grey streaks in her hair and a hooked nose that Ben didn't inherit. She looks me up and down me with squinting eyes that make me sure she's suspicious.

"A little… Um, I'm here to meet Ben Blue?'

"Which Ben?"

"Um, he's eighteen, lives in Mount Pleasant," I offer what I hope are distinguishing details. Her eyebrows go up. She mutters something but she doesn't point. I stay standing, looking.

Five boys and one girl approach me. Three look so much like Ben, I almost smile. But not one of them are actually Ben.

"Look! OMG, look!" The girl points directly at me. She swats the boy next to her. "You're that girl, aren't you?" I've been around enough mean-girls to notice the thirstiness of her posture. She's looking at me like I'm prey.

"Um, I'm a girl," I push my hands in my pockets, I don't want to seem a threat.

"What girl?" the boy that got smacked asks.

"The girl that got Benji in trouble," she responds.

"Um, yeah, I guess so. He is here, right?"

"Jenny, your mom wants you to set up the tents like now," Ben barks like an order, coming from behind a camper. He is my knight in shining, black T-shirt armor.

"Don't use that tone with me. I was rinsing out Eddy's cooler, not my fault you didn't look useful. Anyways, that girl-scout is lost and we don't want those cookies." Jenny looks at me sideways, crosses her arms and steps away.

Ben jerks around to look at me, never intending to be rescuing me, but smiling almost instantly. That rare, Ben Blue smile always gets one in return from me. I'm every level of relieved to see him.

"Tory, you're here!"

"Yep, I'm here." He touches my shoulder when he's in reach and wipes sweat off his brow with the other hand. "This is a bit bigger than I kind of imagined."

My family was my mom and her parents. Three people, all dead now, and nothing really extending beyond that. And my new family, Kit and my Aunt Tempe were just as small. I had no idea a family reunion would be such a circus.

"Oh, yeah?" Ben looks around, shrugging, "It's an off year. The big one is next summer. Come on, let's drop your stuff at my dad's tent. Then we gotta go get ice, lots of ice."

He grabs my hand and my sleeping bag, not that it would actually get cold enough to use it, but I thought it would be nice to have some padding. When we turn, we're face to face with five boys all within year or two of Ben. They have their arms crossed and open, unreadable expressions. Ben takes a step, they don't move. Ben takes a deep breath and starts to move around them, they shift.

"Fine…" Ben points with his fingers, "Bobby, Junior, ME, Emmitt, Jose…. Tory."

"She your girlfriend?" one of them says. I think it's Junior, he's smaller and slighter than the others, I get the impression he's the youngest, but I'm not certain. He can't hold a poker face and his smile is teasing.

"Yep." Ben sounds annoyed and sort of in a hurry.

"Ooo, Benji has a girlfriend," Junior says, sing-song tone coating the phrase.

"Which is 100% more girlfriend than you," Ben chuckles while he brushes of the attempt and forces his way through the line.

"Nice to meet you," I call back over my shoulder.

"Don't keep the camp up, love birds!" one calls, Ben's fingers flinch angry around mine. I walk so close to him that our sneakers collide when we step.

"Don't worry you'll be fine. They're just avoiding tasks and staying bored."

"So, Benji… I know I said I was cool with meeting more of your family and all, but there's like two hundred people here!"

"Two hundred people that send me birthday cards and gave me candy at Christmas dinners, it's not exactly the same as walking into a garden party with the politically connected of Charleston."

"Touche, but obviously those kids don't like me. What am I supposed to do?"

He grins, squeezes my hand, "Let's see, what was it you said three weeks ago at that damn Cotillion dance? Just pretend to be my date?" He laughs, completely enjoying my discomfort after numerous occasions of being paraded in society functions.

"No dice, Benji, my boyfriend, Ben, will not approve. And he's like big, and usually angry," I tease him back.

"Yeah, can that like… never leave this campground?" he cringes.


	6. Blunnan Teacher AU

Prompt: Teacher AU + Everybody Knows/Mistaken for Couple for Blunnan?

.

"I need another example of an apex predator." Tory stood at the board ready to write down the next suggestion.

"Jaguar," a boy called.

"Sure. And?" Tory drew her words out, coaxing participation from her frigid third period.

"Great White."

"Yep. And?" The sat waiting in silence as most the teens stared up at the ceiling.

The door handle clicked and swung open. Mr. Blue walked along the wall to the cubby for lab storage at the back and attempted to shield as much noise as possible as he accessed the fridge.

"Come on, focus guys. Like, three more? Apex predators, anyone?"

Silence.

"Wolves," Mr. Blue interjected, saluting with two fingers as he headed to the exit. He carried a big jug of milk.

"Thanks, Mr. Blue."

"No probs, Brennan." He slid out the door and kept it from slamming.

"Let's review the definition of an apex predator, shall we?"

"Or we can talk Mr. Blue's pecks," Lucy grinned, eyebrows going up.

Tory flushed. "Lucy, let's keep it to appropriate things."

"I mean, this is biology, right? And aren't humans the apex of apex predators? And, wouldn't you agree that Mr. Blue is one fine specimen?" Lucy prodded.

The class giggled and Tory gaped.

"He's not bad, Ms. Brennon." Lucy's side-kick, Ada added, emboldened by the descent of the class into nervous fits.

"Your opinion of Mr. Blue is beside the point. Let's all focus and get back on track with the lesson, okay?"

"I think we'd all rather know your opinion of Mr. Blue." Lucy's teasing continued.

"He's a colleague and fellow science teacher." Tory didn't know why she'd answered at all, but she couldn't face the class with her red face. The sweat poured under her arms and out of her palms. She faced the board and put her chalk below Great White.

"Where were we?"

"I believe it was wolves, Tor," Mr. Blue commented, returning with the milk to the lab fridge.

The class giggled. Tory died with each wave. Ben would be hearing about etiquette on the drive home.


	7. Hiram: Master of the Date

Prompt: Hey, can can you do a Hi Solotiski imagine where he and the reader share a first kiss?

Response: My little head canon… Not a reader insert, please forgive.

.

* * *

"So, how was the concert?" Tory asked after Ella settled.

"Depends on what you define as a concert," Ella huffed.

"I mean, a concert is a concert," Hiram said.

"I honestly need a reality check. What, pray tell, is the definition of a concert? Like a date-worthy concert," Ella gasped in an exaggerated whine.

"Um, well, I would say it's the playing of music to a live audience by either a band, or singer, or symphony, or I guess a DJ. You know, a gig," Shelton said.

"Like, you'd expect professionals, though? At least garage-band level of music, right?" Ella asked.

"Um, yeah. Why?" Shelton said.

"Thank you for confirming that I'm not crazy."

"So, not a concert?" Tory asked.

"It was a recital, Tory. A damned recital for the kids he teaches lessons to. I'm not heartless, some cute kids up there, but oh-my-God! There were recorders!"

"Ouch, painful," Shelton squirmed.

"That's gotta be like your fourth bad date in a row."

"It must be impossible for guys our age to think of good dates."

"You're just not picking the right guy. I could plan the best date you've ever been on and not even break a sweat," Hiram boasted.

"Sure ya could, Hi," Tory rolled her eyes.

"It's not that hard." Hiram insisted.

"Then do it! I'll give you five minutes to think about it and come up with your answer." Shelton challenged.

"I don't even need five minutes. I have a three step process."

"You have a process? For dates?" Tory snickered.

"Watch. Step one, know your subject. Ella, for example, is the type of girl that gets out and does stuff. Not a homebody, a girl for some adventure. Step two, take note of the local offerings. For instance, there's a carnival and art fair in the park down town that opens Friday evening a perfect fit for an outgoing lady. Step three, be prompt. Set a time that ensures a good pace to accomplish all the goals but with enough room for spontaneity."

"Yeah, but that's not actually the date, is it? That's all you have planned?" Shelton asked.

"Oh, you want the play by play, fine. I would show up at six which offers the optimal timing for a girl to get home, relax a little, and still get ready. We'd walk through down town. It's about twenty minutes and gives a good opportunity for ice breakers and strategic questions about what a girl wants to see at the fair. And when we get there, use that intel to guide her to the appropriate food cart selections.

"After a light meal, it's off to the fair to see the vendors before it gets dark. Art is better in natural lighting, after all. And, then, when the lights start coming on and the carnival rides open up, I'd win her some prizes and we'd share some ride. Then a bit of dessert: elephant ears, cotton candy, what ever she desires, no limits.

"Now, curfew, it can sneak up on you. So I'd set an alarm and get her walking back home about thirty minutes early so there should still be ten minutes for chit-chat on her front step. Boom, date over. Best night of the summer courtesy of Hiram Stolowitski."

He ended with a firm hand slap on the table and a satisfied head nod.

"Wow, actually, not bad, Hi. Good work," Tory said.

"Well, sort of," Ella considered.

"Come on, tell me that's not a thousand times better than kids music recital," Hiram sought the credit he deserved.

"I mean, obviously it's like a million times better. Except one thing."

"What? What could be better?"

"I can't be ready before six-thirty. I have a couple chapters to read for English," Ella smiled.

"Okay, fine. Six-thirty. That's barely even an amendment. Admit it, it's the perfect date."

"I hope so. Oh, I have to run some transcript requests by the office. So I'll have to catch you guys later. Don't forget, HI, six-thirty." She beamed while making her exit.

Hiram looked at Tory, then at Shelton who was starting to laugh nervously.

"Wait… is she serious?" Hiram asked.

"Uh, yeah. I think so," Tory mused.

"Wait… wait! Did Ella just agree to go on a date with me?"

Shelton pulled a sad smile and tilted his head while he shrugged. "Look, she's a friend. She was probably already planning on going to the fair. I mean, it's Ella."

"And? You don't think I can get a girl like Ella?"

"I hate to say it, but she's a bit out of our league, buddy." Shelton said.

"Tory?"

"I don't know, Hiram, she usually does date a different sort of guy. I mean, she sort of likes being the smart one in the relationship," Tory said.

"But, should I go meet her at six-thirty?" Hiram looked to his friends for help and got shrugs in response.

.

"I am an idiot. Fool. Moron," Hiram belittled himself as he walked to Ella's house from the cafe where he'd passed his afternoon. "I'm a friend. If she's not expecting me then… well, I was just on my way and thought I'd see if she actually wanted to go. We did talk about it. Am I crazy? I'm talking to myself like I'm crazy." He grumbled through the gate and up the driveway to the castle that was her family home.

He rang the doorbell and waited.

"Oh, hey Hiram. Nice to see you." Ella's mother smiled as she answered. Without waiting a beat she called behind her, "Ella! Hiram's here!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming."

Hiram's pulse picked up. Ella sounded excited, not mystified, maybe this was actually a thing.

"Hey, Hi!" She quickly pushed past him and away from the house. "See you later, mom."

He followed her out to the street and down the sidewalk a ways while the awkward tension grew inside of him. The silence stretched and the longer it went on the less he felt able to say anything. Ella looked cute, super cute, in a long tanktop and short, short shorts. Even her grey Keds screamed, "cute!"

"So, where's those probing questions?"

Ella smiled like there was nothing odd about the two of them being alone together without Tory or Shelton or another one of their friends. Hiram realized, it was the first time he'd ever been alone with Ella. And she beamed like it was any other afternoon. Reality crashed in on him. To her, it was just like any other afternoon. A day out with friends – she had so many – and all of her stopped screaming, "cute" and started conveying, "nothing to see here, just a couple friends out for a walk" which all at once made it easier to be himself and also sent a pang of disapointment through him.

Hiram was used to disapointment when it came to girls. So Hiram did what he was best at and decided to make the best of his usual situation. Ella, and this night, could be one real-life practice session for his real first first-date. Hiram donned his smile and thrust out his elbow.

"Well, Ella, I believe I promised the very best a food cart could offer. Any personal favorites you're hoping to see?"

And off to the fair they went.

Stop one: Indian street foods for spicy somosas. Hiram paid and they shared the dipping sauce.

Stop two: sliders and fried pickles. Ella reinforced reality when she insisted she'd pay.

Stop three: a slow paced tour up and down the art vendors where Ella paid particular attention to African-inspired art and pottery stalls. Hiram loved how she gravitated towards orange. Her skin took on the glowing hues of the sunset and her eyes came alive.

When the lights began to flicker on and the music from the carnival started, Ella was keen to cheer him on as he tossed rings and missed milk jugs with softballs and never even came close to winning a prize. She didn't want to ride the Ferris Wheel when it was still light–or, at all, he filled in the unspoken for her–but they did spin until they were almost sick and fly side by sides on the chain swings.

"Hey, Hiram, you never asked me when my curfew is."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot. I guess that means it's soon?"

"Well, we have about enough time to grab an elephant ear and then I have to head back. How are you getting home?"

Hiram stopped still in his tracks. The perfect date planned just for Ella and he forgot that one little detail. He looked at his watch. The last ferry left over thirty minutes earlier.

"Do you need a ride?"

"No, no. I'll call my dad. I don't want you to get in trouble."

"I'm sure my parents will let me drive you back. Come on, never hurts to ask, right?"

.

"Morris Island, what is that? Forty minutes?"

"Thirty, each way…" Hiram added. "It's no problem. My dad will come snag me from the cafe in town."

"Please, mom? Just one night, I swear I'll be home by midnight."

"Okay, fine. But you call me on your drive home so I can talk to you. I don't want you falling asleep at the wheel, okay?" Her mother agreed.

Hiram had never been in Ella's car. He and Shelton were almost always relegated to riding with Ben and generally Ella met them where ever they were going. So he couldn't help but exclaim when he slid into her Audi.

"Wow, mood lighting? LED light-tubes? Is that real wood?"

Ella laughed and pushed a few buttons so the lighting changed colors. "Red? Blue? Green?"

"You know, when your eye sees blue light it interprets it as the sky and it causes your brain to send a wake-up signal through your body?"

"Blue it is." she turned on the radio and quizzed him on music. While he had opinions, they were heavily influenced by Ben's preferences for metal and moody alternative bands from the early ninties. They listened to Pearl Jam and Sleeter Kenny among others on the oldies station. He even sang at the top of his lungs, and badly, to "Jeremy." Ella laughed herself to tears.

She pulled into the condo parking lot and Hirem popped his car door and turned to tell her thanks for the ride, but she was already getting out.

"Need a stretch?" He aksed.

"Yeah, some fresh air. You know, it's a full moon. I've never been out here at night on a full moon. Can we go by the beach? I love the ocean on nights like this."

"Oh, sure, this way, my-lady."

He motioned her on down the path and towards the ebbing waves. The tide was on it's way out and the shells glistened like dim candles. She eased down onto her bottom and drew her legs up.

"This has been really, really fun, Hi."

"Yeah, sure was." That gnawing ache came back through his chest.

"Come on, sit for a second." She patted the sand. He half-fell, none too graceful. "You sure know what makes a good first date."

"Thanks,' he half grumbled.

"What would a second be like?"

Hiram laughed, mirthless and gloomy. "Maybe I should open a consulting business: Custom Dates."

"Well then, are you a kiss on the first-date sort of guy or a wait until the second?" She nudged him, seemingly missing his joke.

"Well, I'm a never had a first-date kinda guy. So I guess I would recommend snagging a kiss when ever you can. Seems like only fools would wait for a sec–"

Ella's hand pulled his chin and she lurched up on her knees to find his lips. Hiram, frozen solid, blubbered, "Uh, uh… um…"

Ella pinched her lips together, the moon highlighting the smoothness of her skin and the fine feathers of her bangs that flared around her head. Hiram's body compelled him forward and swiftly followed his first kiss with a not-as gentle second. And a third. And a fourth.

And then, her phone rang.

"Oh, it's my mom. I should go."

"Yeah, of course," Hiram collected himself, heaving himself up and offering her a hand.

Even when she was on her feet, she didn't let his hand go. Her fingers squeezed tight all the way to the car.

"Hiram, that was a really, really great first date. Can I plan the next one?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. I mean… what ever you want!" He grinned from ear to ear.

She blushed. Hiram Stolowitski made Ella blush.


End file.
